


The Thorn of Guilt

by erichthos



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen, anyway this is just me tryna figure out winn's thought process so, me? defend a mean lady with good hair? shocking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:09:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22323109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erichthos/pseuds/erichthos
Summary: She cannot decide which crime she struggles most to justify. Is it worse to be a murderer or a traitor? Is it worse to lie with the enemy, or to kill an ally?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	The Thorn of Guilt

The last time Winn Adami vomited, she had just been kicked in the gut.

It was her fourth year of five at the labour camp; her sixth beating of what would eventually be eight. Her thirty-first year of life, and the only world she had ever known. Curled into a question mark and heaving on nothing, it remained the most powerless moment of her entire life. And growing up under the occupation, she had never felt particularly powerful to begin with. None of them had. She survived, of course; Bajor survived. With half of its splendour and two-thirds of its people, Bajor survived until the Cardassian’s withdrew. But it still had scars on its stomach.

Seven years later, and Winn ostensibly has more power than ever before. Seven years later, and she sits in the monastery gardens, and the air is still and the streams are gentle, and the crescent moons hang together like an unsung cadence, nestled between the stars without a care in the world. Seven years later, and she is free. Yet she still feels sick.

She cannot decide what makes her feel worse. She cannot decide which crime she struggles most to justify. Is it worse to be a murderer or a traitor? Is it worse to lie with the enemy, or to kill an ally? Each time she thinks of welcoming Dukat into her bed, she wants to scrape off her skin.

There is no one else in the monastery gardens. She is here alone. She will not sit on the ground and so sits on one of the benches, her back against a sandstone wall that has been destroyed and rebuilt four times now. It is long past midnight, and she has spent the last two hours outside. She dares not look at her bed and she dares not close her eyes. She has come into the garden in order to rebuild herself. She must decide what she will do next.

Whatever happens, she knows there can be no return. She has rebuked the Prophets, and no force in the universe will send her scuttling back. The Pah-wraiths are the true gods. She is acting for the good of all Bajor. She will beg forgiveness from no one.

But then, she thinks, what’s to say the Pah-wraiths will be any different? What’s to say they won’t ignore her as well? The image creeps from the back of her mind and rests behind her eyes. What if they abandon her too?

Things will be different, she says, out loud before she can stop herself. (She waits to see if anyone has heard, but naturally there is no one around to pay her any attention at all.) No, she repeats, this time inside her mind, things _will_ be different. The Pah-wraiths have spoken to her directly. They have revealed to her their secrets. She is destined for this. She is chosen for this. They will share their power with her. They will be equitable and fair and just. Unlike the Prophets, they will not let their loyalist servant rot.

But then again, perhaps the Pah-wraiths are not the ones she needs to worry about. Perhaps she is only walking where she has been led. Perhaps she is still acting like a sheep, stumbling in the wake of a wolf.

No, she thinks, no, that’s a lie too. The Pah-wraiths sought her before Dukat even appeared. Dukat is only on Bajor because he _needs_ her. He is too sycophantic to hurt her. Without her help, he can do nothing. She could destroy him at a moment’s notice; she may have been tricked and deceived in the past, but now _she_ holds the power. She is the key at the centre of everything. She is the most important piece of the puzzle. She has freed herself from the callous shackles of the Prophets and is no longer a blinded, bleating lamb. Besides, it was Kira, not Dukat, that drove her to that decision.

Besides, she reasons hastily, if she does not free the Pah-wraiths, then nothing will change. Her people will continue to worship gods that do not love them. She will never be treated with the respect she deserves. These doubts of hers are worthless, meaningless. They signify nothing but a weakness of self. And her enemies love to believe she is weak.

She considers the smugness of the First Minister; the indifference of the Emissary; the cool antipathy of the Vedek Assembly. Every one of them would love to see her fall. Her failed stint as First Minister – and she can admit now that it _was_ a failure – split her supporters down the middle. All her drudgery, all her tenacity, and where has it got her? She is a Kai of waning influence and a subject of disdain. Nothing more.

It’s cruel, she thinks, that the universe should so readily conspire against her. She only wanted the best for the Prophets; she only wanted the best for her people. Yet neither wanted the best for her. Neither _wants_ the best for her.

Even Solbor tried to destroy her.

The thought crosses her mind incidentally, but once it enters her heart, she clings to it with ferocity. Solbor wanted to betray her. Forsake her. He wanted to turn her into a pariah and expose her to the entire Vedek Assembly. He wanted to parade and deride her in front of the entire world. She allows her belated accusations to expand and contract until her act of violence seems almost rational. The truth settles like sediment; her lies wash past and ignore it. Solbor wanted to destroy her. Solbor wanted to steal her office. She did the only sensible thing.

Moments later, and she extracts the thorn of guilt entirely.

Yet she cannot overlook her dance with Dukat. She still cannot return to her bed. Never mind that he has his own quarters, never mind that her sheets are clean and fresh and the mattress has been changed. _That_ is one act that she cannot allay with such ease. The guilt and revulsion collide within her, and she finds herself grimacing on the night air, cool though it may be.

But the prophecy was clear: without sacrifice, there can be no release. It was on the very first page of the book. It took her only minutes to figure _that_ one out. And so, she thinks, perhaps if she keeps Dukat alive, perhaps if she lets him live, then she can exact a just revenge. The sacrifice must be worthy after all. The sacrifice must be capable of delusion and hate. Perhaps if she keeps him alive for that, then she will be able to rid herself of her shame.

Yes, she thinks, that is the only thing she can do. He has not beaten her. He has exploited her kindness, that’s all. He has taken her benevolence and twisted it towards his own selfish interest. Well, she thinks, that will last no longer. The liar has been exposed, and she will not give him the power to cloud her thoughts. She will be kind to herself. She will show herself the forgiveness that the Prophets never did. And when the time is right, when the Pah-wraiths are awake and she is on the threshold of rebirth, she will destroy Dukat so thoroughly, so utterly, that she will forget he ever existed at all.

**Author's Note:**

> winn adami in season five: a character with depth  
> winn adami in season seven: a plot point???? maybe????? a loose end?????? who knows????


End file.
